


this burning building

by CrimeBrulee



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: M/M, Post-Promare, basically Lio is depressed and Galo realizes that he can't do much about it, implied Galolio, tw implied self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25928203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimeBrulee/pseuds/CrimeBrulee
Summary: “A valid concern,” Ignis says.  “Sitting and waiting is about all you can do.  There are some battles that must be fought alone.  And he has had a rough time of it over the years.”“Yeah, I just felt like we really connected, you know?  When we used the Galo De Lion—we sort of melded in a way, if that makes sense.  I experienced so much of him and I’m sure he must have seen me too…I just wish that…we had that same connection again.  Then I could let him know that it’ll be okay.  That I’ve got him.”
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 14
Kudos: 73





	this burning building

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to Diving Bell by Starset one too many times, I think.

I

“Lio?” Galo’s hand poises to knock on the bathroom door. The thunder of water into the tub cuts short. If he strains his ears, he can hear the occasional drip, marking haphazard time, the silence between like held breaths. Fingers still curled, he lets his hand drop.

Thirty seconds tick by.

“I just need some time,” Lio finally answers. “I’ll be out in a little bit.”

Relief sinks heavy into Galo’s limbs. A breath hollows him out. “Yes, sorry. If you need anything, just holler, yeah? Anything at all.”

“Yeah, I know.” A beat. “Thanks.”

Lio waits for the scuff of socks on the carpet and the gentle sway of the door down the hall, his fingers still on the lock. He turns to the bathtub, filled to the brim with steaming water. He flinches when he skims his fingers over it. Ripples wallow out toward the edge.

Heat is no longer a familiar feeling to Lio. Not as an outsider. He wouldn’t call it scalding, but he seethes a breath through clenched teeth.

Slowly, Lio raises a foot and dips a toe in. He winces, clutching the top of the toilet for balance as he adjusts. Then, he pushes his foot in until his sole finds the bottom of the tub. The water sloshes around his calf, a sharp interface between hot and cold. The rest of his body wracks with shivers. He lowers the second in, then wades to one end. He sinks down gradually.

The heat makes the water feel solid, like he’s wrapping himself in a sun-steeped leather coat in the dead of summer. Lio gasps for breath, but focuses on the water lapping up against his chest. Slowly, he leans backward to rest his head against the wall.

And he soaks it in.

II

“I turned the water heater waaaaaay down the other day,” Galo whispers on the phone, clutching it to his ear with both hands. “I noticed he was cranking the water temp way up on the kitchen faucet and I got paranoid, you know? He also just sits and stares at this lighter he carries around. I’m worried he’s going to burn himself.”

Lio has gone to bed in the other room, body pruned from his bath. Red has seeped across the palest parts of him.

“That’s probably wise,” Ignis responds. The gravel growl of his voice grounds Galo a little.

It’s been months since Kray betrayed Galo, and the echo of his cruelty eases when he spends time with Ignis. 

“How is he otherwise?” Ignis asks. “Anything unusual?”

“Sometimes he’s fine,” Galo murmurs. “Talks, jokes, does chores. But there are times when he sort of just…goes to a place inside of himself. I can see him retreating there, but I don’t know what to do. It’s not like I can follow him there…so I’m left sort of just sitting and waiting. I just worry that he’ll hurt himself, you know? Like, as a member of Burning Rescue, whenever I see someone in trouble I’ve always been able to just pluck them out of danger. I…I guess I can’t do that this time. It bugs me.”

“A valid concern,” Ignis says. “Sitting and waiting is about all you can do. There are some battles that must be fought alone. And he has had a rough time of it over the years.”

“Yeah, I just felt like we really connected, you know? When we used the Galo De Lion—we sort of melded in a way, if that makes sense. I experienced so much of him and I’m sure he must have seen me too…I just wish that…we had that same connection again. Then I could let him know that it’ll be okay. That I’ve _got him_.”

Ignis chuckles. “If only it were that simple.”

Galo can hear the tv in the background of the call. A microwave beeps.

“You never answered my first question, though,” Ignis says, “I asked how _you_ were.”

“Ah, oh, uh, I don’t have a lot of report,” Galo stammers. “Other than what I already told you.”

“See to it that you’re taking your own well-being into account, son,” Ignis says. “You have to take care of yourself too. Got it?”

“Yeah, of course—”

III

“Microsoft excel can rot in hell,” Lio mutters. He’s poised over the computer, back tensed like a coiled spring, a vicelike grip on the mouse. A spinning rainbow beachball mocks him from a frozen screen. With a sharp growl, he jerks the mouse side to side.

Galo pauses, heaps of laundry spilling from the basket in his arms. He adjusts it in his hands and some underwear plops to the floor—so he stoops down, transferring the basket into one arm and fumbling to grab the underwear with the other hand. Some socks slosh out the other side. “Ah, crud—” He abandons the basket by his feet.

“Just take the basket to the washing machine and come back for your trail of lost socks,” Lio says. He finally releases the mouse to tangle his hands in his hair. “Argh, this is frustrating.”

Frustration from Lio is more common than not, when he isn’t sulking or sequestering himself. Galo misses the fiery bite of the Burnish on the motorcycle—swinging blade as sharp as his tongue. Galo can’t help but wonder if Lio’s own fire had bled away with the Burnish the day they saved Promepolis. 

A lump sinks heavy in Galo’s throat. He blinks back the sting in his eyes and steadies himself with a few deep breaths. Lio’s pain, Galo realizes, is tenfold what he feels just watching him suffer. There are dimensions to it that he will never understand.

“What are you working on?” Galo asks, after some time. By some miracle, his voice does not crack. 

“Numbers. Like budget stuff. Volunteer stuff. Who goes where. Who needs what. What paperwork needs to be done and where it needs to go.” Lio says. “To be honest, I never realized how much administrative work goes into saving your people once all the fighting is done. I was better at the raids. I was better at being an outlaw than I ever will be on this side of things—and even that ability has been stripped from me. The Lio Fotia that led his people is no more. ” He snaps his finger, as if to produce flame. The sound falls flat. 

“Forget I said anything about that,” Lio snaps. “It’s not a big deal.”

Galo opens his mouth to speak, but he cannot parse the words. There’s nothing that he could say that would even touch upon Lio’s sense of loss. To try would only feel like a mockery. 

“It is a big deal,” he finally settles with. “A lot happened. You’re allowed to mourn.”

Lio scoffs, absently watching the beachball spin. “I’m just worried I can’t be what my people need anymore. Not if I’m struggling so much to just _sit down_ and do the work. My head is spinning faster than this damned lollipop thing on my screen.”

“You are more than enough for your people. You’re the only one who will ever understand just what they went through and what they need. Computer shit just sucks is all,” Galo says. He pauses, a beat, and stares over Lio’s shoulder as excel finally crashes. “Well, if you already know what you want in the spreadsheet, you can write it by hand and I can enter it in for you later, if that makes it easy.” 

Galo sidles over, placing his hands on Lio’s shoulders from behind. He pauses there, as if testing the waters. When Lio doesn’t shrug him off, he starts kneading into the meat there.

Barely audible, a sigh escapes Lio’s parted lips as he lets his head lull to one side. “That can work,” Lio finally says. “I think better with a pen and paper anyway. The calculations themselves will have to be done on excel but—”

“I can figure that out,” Galo says. “I took a computer class or two in school. You can depend on me, you know? All you have to do is ask.”

“Hm,” Lio grunts. He ducks away from Galo’s reach. “Maybe just for today. I’ll be in living room with a notebook, then. I’ll let you know when I’m finished.” He stoops down to grab his little shoulder bag and wanders into the other room without another word.

Galo watches his shadow fade into the next room. He hears the familiar click of the lighter, over and over again, and his heart sinks.

 _I’ll keep persisting_ , Galo decides, as he restarts the computer. _Any little thing I can do_ , _no matter how small._

He can’t scoop Lio out of this burning building, but he can keep it from collapsing on him.


End file.
